


An Afternoon at the Pond

by JamHande



Series: Regency Wives [2]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, Female Aziraphale (Good Omens), Female Crowley (Good Omens), Ineffable Wives (Good Omens), Regency
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-09-26 14:57:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20391577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JamHande/pseuds/JamHande
Summary: Aziraphale and Crowley enjoy free time, and each other, one afternoon in the countryside of North Yorkshire.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write more of this pairing, since I enjoyed creating the original AU so much. I'm practicing writing sensual/sexual situations, so fair warning. Please do share any and all constructive criticism in the comments, or find me on tumblr [here](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/jamhande).

Crowley and Aziraphale strolled through the grass side by side on their usual Thursday afternoon outing. They’d decided to walk the countryside, far from the manor and its incessant demands. The land here was wild and free and empty, and it was unlikely that anyone would cross their path. They’d mutually decided to head for one of their favorite spots: a lovely pond tucked into the hills, too small for fishing, and secluded enough that they would be able to take in the flora and fauna undisturbed. Crowley had whispered a phrase before their walk, unbeknownst to the angel, to ensure that absolutely nothing would disrupt their afternoon together. She’d wanted to have Aziraphale to herself.

The summer sun was still above them, just, and Aziraphale quivered gently in the pure pleasure of its warmth. She felt a sudden desire to take her shoes off. She sat down on the grass and proceeded to tug at one of her half-boots. 

Crowley looked down at her, trying not to think of the stains she’d have to miracle out of the angel’s dress later. “Aziraphale, whatever are you doing?”

“I wanted to feel the grass between my toes,” smiled Aziraphale. Her head tilted upward to look at Crowley, whose red hair was glinting in the sunlight. “I’ve read that it’s a delightful sensation.”

“You’ve read, have you,” chuckled the demon. She knelt down at the angel’s feet. “Let me help you, then.”

Aziraphale huffed, ready to tell Crowley for the hundredth time that she was _ more than capable _ of doing things for herself. But then she felt that familiar sensation as Crowley reached out to take Aziraphale’s boot in her hands. The angel’s expression changed quickly into a smile as she gazed at the demon. Although it had become a fairly routine occurrence, Aziraphale still felt a small jolt every time she recognized love coming from Crowley. And it seemed to flow most freely whenever the demon did her some small service, such as this one.

She’d even learned, over time, how to increase that flow of love, if only slightly. “Oh thank you, Crowley, you’re always so kind to indulge me.” She observed the slight pink bloom on the demon’s cheeks, and sure enough, the feelings of love grew. 

Crowley harrumphed as she straightened Aziraphale’s leg, carefully untied the bootlace, and slid the boot from the angel’s foot. She set it aside before moving to the other boot, removing it even more slowly and carefully than the other. She gently wiped a spot of mud from the toe before settling it neatly beside its mate.

“And what about these, Angel?” Crowley winked as her hand stroked the simple white cotton stocking around Aziraphale’s ankle. “You can’t very well feel the grass between your toes with these on.”

Aziraphale chuckled softly at the demon’s irrepressible mischievousness. She knew that Crowley wanted to take those stockings off for her, and was simply waiting for the angel to nod her approval. She felt a surge of matching mischief in herself, however, and felt a decidedly unangelic urge to tease. Aziraphale twisted her lips into a frown of concentration, lifting her hand as if she were about to snap the stockings away. She was gratified to hear a groan of frustration and a softly whispered “Don’t you dare, Angel,” from Crowley.

Aziraphale slowly lowered her hand and placed it beside her hip on the grass. She smiled at her demon. “Oh, very well, then. But slowly, please, I don’t want them to rip.” As if she couldn’t miracle herself a new pair. But Crowley liked to play this game, and Aziraphale had learned that her own flow of love increased when she allowed herself to be taken care of.

She watched as the demon gently lifted her skirt, sliding it up her shins and even further up over her knees. It caught, held fast by Aziraphale’s weight on the ground. The angel shifted her legs, bending her knees enough to allow the fabric to slide ever higher, until her skirt was bunched around her hips, and the yellow ribbons tied around each of her thighs to keep her stockings in place were visible.

Crowley lowered her face gently to Aziraphale’s knees, keeping one hand flat on the grass. She gave a soft kiss to one knee, then slowly moved to breathe a kiss onto the other. Her other hand began stroking one of the ribbons at the angel’s upper thigh. Her thumb traveled the entire boundary of it, starting from the grass up to the knot at the front of the thigh, then sliding its way down the other side to the fleshy cleft created by the press of Aziraphale’s inner thighs against each other. Her thumb stopped there a moment, then continued its opposite journey. Up to the other knot, then down again all the way to the grass. This voyage of the thumb had required the demon to lean further in towards the angel, and her face was now pressed at the meeting of Aziraphale’s thighs.

“Crowley,” breathed Aziraphale. The demon smiled to herself, knowing that the angel was very nearly helpless when it came to soft, teasing pressure upon her sensitive skin. Crowley knew that Aziraphale longed to feel good, and gentle touches were, in her experience, the best way to elicit an involuntary sigh or moan of pleasure from the angel. She’d been waiting all week for the chance to properly touch Aziraphale, and wanted to draw this pleasure out between them. It was well enough to exchange kisses and caresses in their shared bed, but when the Angel was truly transported by pleasure, she tended to become rather … loud. A summer afternoon out in the countryside was, in the demon’s estimation, the perfect environment to provide all the stimulation necessary so that Aziraphale could fully surrender herself.

Crowley kissed her way back down the angel’s thighs, then allowed herself to rise back up to a seated position. Her fingers rested at the knot of one yellow ribbon and gently teased at it, working her thumb into the twist. Her fingers brushed at the stocking even as her thumb toiled in its effort to remove it. The knot loosened, and Crowley gave a soft hiss as she was able to unravel it. Aziraphale sighed as the pressure around her thigh eased. She further lifted her leg from the ground as the demon pulled at the ribbon. Crowley tugged at it slowly, not wanting to catch it on the stocking, and watched it carefully slither its way out from underneath the angel. 

Finally, it was loose, and Crowley folded it and settled it inside one of the angel’s boots. She then moved to the other thigh and repeated the process. She glanced up and saw the angel’s cheeks had flushed, and her tiny mouth had fallen open as if she were waiting for Crowley to drop a treat into it. Crowley failed to hide her smile as she released the other ribbon from its position and folded it away.

Crowley shifted herself up onto her knees. The angel was sitting back on her hips now, both palms flat on the grass behind her, and watching the demon closely. Crowley leaned forward to slide a finger behind the upper roll of a stocking, and as she did so, she lowered her face to within a breath of Aziraphale’s. She saw the angel’s eyes widen, then watched as her gaze shifted down. Crowley waited a moment, her fingers tucked underneath the stocking, pressed into the flesh of the angel’s upper thigh. She watched Aziraphale’s mouth as it moved forward towards her own. 

Crowley dearly loved doing this; holding herself slightly apart from the angel’s lips, waiting for Aziraphale to meet her kiss. The demon felt she was often the one chasing, caressing, serving. And so she savored moments like these, when she sensed the angel’s desire reaching to match hers. 

Aziraphale had paused, however. Crowley’s fingers continued their journey down the angel’s thigh, rolling the stocking agonizingly slowly, and was rewarded when Aziriaphale at last pressed her soft lips against Crowley’s. The resulting warmth that spread through the demon was worth every second of distance from the angel she’d had to endure through the week. She let the kiss continue as her fingertips slid down Aziraphale’s leg; the cotton rolling, rolling, down the angel’s knee, then her calf, then her ankle, until it was free of her completely.

The kiss broke then, and Crowley watched in deep satisfaction as Aziraphale’s eyes took on a shade of blue that she’d only ever seen on these Thursday afternoons. The angel’s breath was coming in short spurts. Her eyelashes were glinting, both from the sunlight and her desire. “Crowley, at this rate we’ll never make it to the pond,” the angel whispered.

“Oh, we’ve got plenty of time, Angel,” Crowley murmured. “I’ll see to that.” Crowley’s hand shifted to the top of the other stocking. She lingered there a bit, pressing a fingertip in the gentle swell of flesh above the fabric. One of the angel’s inner thighs was slightly fuller than the other, and Crowley dearly loved to let her fingers roam there. Crowley would memorize the way they looked so that she could draw upon the image throughout the week.

Of course, examining the way the angel’s thighs pressed together inevitably caused the demon to think about other things that pressed together, and so she felt herself spurred on. She rolled the other stocking down the angel’s leg; still slowly, but with a bit more urgency. She removed it from Aziraphale’s foot with a soft tickle on her sole. The angel giggled, scolding her with a gentle “Crowley.”

The demon was unrepentant, however, and kept her hand wrapped around the angel’s foot. She didn’t continue her tickling, because that just tended to make Aziraphale irritable. And that was not at all what Crowley had in mind for this outing. She dropped the stockings into the boots, then brought her other hand up to Aziraphale’s toes, slightly pressing her fingers against each in turn. Gently wiggling each one, letting the tension out of each. She heard the angel’s soft moan and decided the other foot deserved the same treatment.

“Ahh, Crowley, that feels nice,” Aziraphale spoke quietly. She looked more relaxed than aroused, now. The demon firmly pressed her thumbs into the soles of the angel’s feet, feeling gentle thrills at each sound of pleasure that her movements elicited from Aziraphale. She could have gone on with that for some time, but was still remembering how one of Aziraphale’s inner thighs oh so slightly overlapped the other. Suddenly she rose to her feet, and lowered a hand to the angel.

“Shall we walk, love,” she questioned, “or have you forgotten about feeling the grass in between your toes?” Crowley chuckled at the angel’s soft surprise. She had forgotten, rather quickly it seemed. Aziraphale let the demon lift her back up to her feet. The angel stood, toes squirming in the grass, and Crowley watched as her tiny nose wiggled at the sensation.

“Oh! It feels … it feels _ wonderful, _Crowley. You should try it.” Aziraphale’s entire body seemed to vibrate with the pleasure of it. 

Crowley wrinkled her own nose in distaste. “I don’t believe I will, Angel. I’m well aware of what grass feels like.” She still held onto Aziraphale’s hand. “Shall we continue, love? Our pond is waiting for us, and I do know how much you like to lie down on its banks.” Crowley’s glance was meaningful enough for the angel to respond with a blush.

“Oh, Crowley, really,” she whispered, her tone landing solidly between admonishment and encouragement.

Crowley just smiled, lowering herself long enough to pick up Aziraphale’s boots and carry them in her free hand. She pulled the angel along with her as she felt an increasingly urgent desire to arrive at their destination.


	2. Chapter 2

Their hands swung easily between them as they strolled contentedly, basking in the warm sunshine and soft breeze. Crowley looked over at Aziraphale, and noticed that the wind was stroking the angel’s curls against her cheek. Crowley felt a momentary jealousy that it was not her own hand stroking those curls, and as a result was spurred on to move more quickly to their pond.

Crowley smiled when she finally saw it in the distance. The spot was tiny and peaceful and all theirs, in a way that few things on this planet ever had been. As they reached the edges of the water, the grass began to change into something wilder; bunches of flowers and reeds reached out from the pond, and the demon pondered which of these spots looked like the most inviting nook to tempt her angel with. She spied one particularly beautiful hollow, circled by heather and soft with long grasses. Crowley began to lead Aziraphale there, turning to walk backwards as she smiled down at her angel.

“Shall we sit, Angel, and recover from our journey? How are those bare feet feeling after walking on all that  _ wonderful _ grass?” The demon grinned, setting Aziraphale’s shoes down.

“It would be nice to sit and rest a bit,” agreed Aziraphale. “These feet are feeling more tired than I expected.” The angel gave a rueful look at her toes as she stood in place and wiggled them.

Crowley sank down to sit on the grass, then patted the spot next to her. “Come here, then, love, and sit awhile with me. Let’s enjoy the view together.” The angel smiled and sat obediently next to her demon, then sighed as Crowley shifted to settle slightly behind her. Crowley wrapped her arms around Aziraphale from behind, allowing the angel to rest the back of her head on the demon’s shoulder. Crowley thrilled inwardly at the view this afforded her. She was able to see down the length of Aziraphale’s neck, past her collarbones, and all the way to the plumpness that began at the angel’s bosom. The angel’s garment was blocking more than that, and Crowley vowed that would change presently.

Aziraphale continued to sigh and murmur while admiring their pond, and then to utter soft moans of encouragement as Crowley’s lips settled softly along different spots of her neck. “Oh, Crowley, that feels wonderful,” Aziraphale whispered as Crowley’s kisses deepened. The demon sucked softly at the angel’s tender skin, all the way from her jaw down to her collarbone. 

Crowley waited until she noticed Aziraphale’s breath had started to come more quickly, and a firm flush had settled upon her cheeks, before she moved a hand to the buttons that rested on the front of the angel’s dress. She fondled the top button, circling it with a finger. “What do you say, Angel,” she murmured into Aziraphale’s ear. “You were quite anxious to feel the grass on your toes, would you like to feel the breeze on more of your skin?”

Aziraphale’s responding moan was answer enough, but Crowley pushed a bit. “What was that, Angel? Shall we take this dress off of you now, or would you prefer to sit quietly and watch the water?” Crowley nibbled at the angel’s earlobe, then, lightning quick, flicked the tip of her tongue in and out of Aziraphale’s ear. The angel moaned again, louder, and Crowley felt the low hum of vibration in Aziraphale’s voice when she responded.

“Oh, yes, Crowley, please … “ Aziraphale’s hands were reaching up to start undoing the buttons on her own gown, but Crowley stopped her.

“This is my job, Angel, I’ll take care of it,” Crowley whispered as her long fingers slipped the top button out of its buttonhole. Her hands brushed Aziraphale’s breasts as they stroked their way down the front of the gown, looking for the next button. She found it and quickly released it, moving her way down the garment until all were undone. She breathed in as she caught a glimpse of Aziraphale’s generous cleavage, revealed by the loosened gown, and presented most delectably by the stays underneath.

Crowley paused to enjoy this sight. It was remarkable how soft and full and round the angel was compared to her own lean frame. She never tired of it, and suddenly felt that her hand needed to be filled with that warm softness. She slid her fingers underneath the opened gown, down the slope of the Angel’s breast, and cupped it in her hand. Her own breath began to match the Angel’s in quickness.

Aziraphale moaned, loudly. “Crowley,” she said, “Crowley, it feels so good.” Aziraphale was always amazed at how her demon’s long fingers, so capable and practical during the week, could turn into instruments of pure temptation and delight in these savored hours together. She wanted nothing more than to feel her naked skin under those magical fingers, pinching and probing her to heights of sensitive pleasure. She whimpered and wriggled under the caress, which was only partly due to her desire to spur Crowley on. “Please, Crowley, I need … “

“Shhh, I know, Aziraphale. Let me help you feel even better.” Crowley smiled to herself at the angel’s soft whimper. She thoroughly enjoyed bringing Aziraphale to these peaks of pleasure, and had learned that the angel had little patience when she desperately wanted to reach the next peak. The demon began to slide the shoulders of the gown down Aziraphale’s shoulders, kissing and nibbling as she went. She helped the angel’s arms free of the gown, and settled it low at her waist. She shifted her weight a bit so that she could easily reach her hands to cup each of Aziraphale’s breasts, now covered only in her thin petticoat. She felt her angel’s nipples hardening quickly as she brushed her thumbs over them.

Aziraphale was rapidly losing control at this treatment. Her moans were getting louder and her hips began to twitch in a most telling way. “Crowley,” she whimpered, again, reaching her hands beside her to grasp at the grass. “Please don’t stop.”

“I’ve no intention of it, my love,” the demon responded, as she began to pull at Aziraphale’s nipples. They were small and their pink color could be seen even under the petticoat. Crowley pinched them softly, her fingers splaying over the angel’s breasts. She could have done this for hours, but Aziraphale was getting more insistent with whimpers and sighs and moans that Crowley would need to start providing even more sensation. 

“Up on your knees, love, and we’ll take the rest of this off,” Crowley instructed. Aziraphale wiggled herself up to her knees, and Crowley tugged at the strings of the angel’s stays until they were loosened enough to wriggle it away. She then lifted the dress off. She grasped the edge of the angel’s petticoat, still trapped underneath Aziraphale’s knees. “You’ll need…” she started to instruct the Angel to shift, but Aziraphale was already moving so that the petticoat could be freed from beneath her. She lifted her arms without being prompted, and Crowley chuckled as she removed it.

“Feeling anxious, my love?” Aziraphale merely flushed, nodding her assent. “Lie back, then.”

Aziraphale’s eyes were round and dark as she lowered herself onto her back. She was lying completely naked in the grass, and Crowley hadn’t so much as removed a boot yet. Crowley chuckled again as she lay down beside the angel, and bent an arm to rest her head on her hand. She gazed up and down at Aziraphale’s form, as always completely enchanted by its soft chubby perfection.

The angel was watching her, gently biting her lip, waiting for Crowley to continue. How many times had Crowley thought of this … tempting the angel to moaning, to whimpering, to begging? How many times had she imagined the accomplishment she’d feel at being the one to spread the angel’s legs, to bring a flush to her skin, to make her cry out insensibly? So many times, and yet none of those times had Crowley even thought about the desperation that she’d feel to make sure Aziraphale was completely and utterly satisfied.

“I’m going to touch and lick and suckle every inch of you, Angel,” she whispered. “What do you think about that?” Crowley watched Aziraphale’s hips twitch involuntarily.

“Please, yes, Crowley, everything,” the angel moaned. 

Crowley leaned down so that her lips hovered over Aziraphale’s nipple. Then, with a snap, removed her own clothes so that she was completely naked as well. She couldn’t help but laugh at the angel’s deep responsive moan. “Wouldn’t want you to feel improper, being the only one without clothes on, Angel,” she said as her lips descended.


	3. Chapter 3

Crowley’s tongue twirled the expanse of Aziraphale’s breast several times. She was leaning on an elbow so that one hand could reach up to twist a lock of the angel’s hair in her fingers. The other hand reached for Aziraphale’s opposite breast and squeezed it gently. Crowley never stopped marveling at the full heaviness of the angel’s breasts. She could easily spend hours toying with them. Watching them quiver with the press of her fingers. Watching that pale skin redden as she pressed and pinched them. Feeling the nipples harden in her palms as she held them and kissed Aziraphale passionately.

They didn’t have hours, though. Crowley could play with time a bit, but it required her full concentration, and right now Aziraphale was demanding all of it. The demon sucked at the nipple nearest her mouth and tugged at the other one with her fingers. Aziraphale’s moans and whimpers were growing ever louder, and her eyes screwed shut as her head tossed back and forth. “Oh Crowley, don’t stop.” 

Crowley smiled around Aziraphale’s nipple, then let it slip out of her mouth with an audible pop. “Greedy angel,” she teased, flicking the very tip of Aziraphale’s nipple back and forth with her tongue before nibbling on it gently. She rolled and squeezed Aziraphale’s other breast while her teeth grazed the areola nearest her. This seemed to drive the angel into a frenzy, and Crowley found herself being grasped by small white hands. Aziraphale tried to pull Crowley on top of her, while arching her hips up to buck against the demon’s nearby thigh.

“Ready so soon, angel?” whispered Crowley. She chuckled softly at the tiny angel’s unsuccessful attempts to move her into the desired position. “Shhh, let me help, my love.” Crowley lifted herself above Aziraphale, settling her own breasts against the angel’s, and sliding a thigh up to the juncture of the angel’s hips. Crowley rested on her elbows and lowered her lips to Aziraphale’s. She kissed her deeply, allowing their tongues to circle each other. Crowley again smiled into the kiss when Aziraphale’s hips began a rhythmic movement. The angel had lifted her knees enough so that her vulva was pressed against Crowley’s thigh, and was rocking back and forth to find the friction she seemed increasingly desperate for. Aziraphale’s arms were wrapped around the demon, grasping her back as she rode.

Crowley’s own hips began to move, responding intuitively to the same rhythm that Aziraphale had started. The angel was fully moaning into Crowley’s mouth now, loud and demanding, sounding her arousal with each stroke of her vulva against the demon. Crowley tamped down her own desire for a moment, sensing that Aziraphale’s orgasm was building quickly. Crowley felt dazed at the speed of it. The angel was always responsive, but right now she seemed almost frantic to reach that first peak of pleasure. The demon had planned to draw the pleasure out, but the angel was rapidly tearing that plan to shreds. Crowley began to feel that she was simply along for the ride -- which was more than fine by her. She felt a hot pride deep in her stomach when she realized that Aziraphale was abandoning herself to their lovemaking more than she ever had before.

She gazed down at the angel’s flushed cheeks, her tiny blonde ringlets, and the lips that had barely even begun to be reddened by kissing. Aziraphale’s mouth formed into an ‘oh’ of pleasure in between each moan and whimper. Crowley lifted a hand to stroke the side of the angel’s face, awestruck at the passion Aziraphale was displaying. She started to worry a bit when the angel’s lips turned into a frustrated frown. “Crowley … I need more … it’s not enough.” The angel was still desperately bucking, but the demon had learned by now that Aziraphale sometimes needed a stronger pressure on her clit in order to climax.

“Lie back, just for a moment, Angel,” she murmured into Aziraphale’s ear. “I’ll get you there.” Aziraphale’s eyes opened, reflecting their deepest blue color, while the angel panted and squirmed in her desire. She looked up at Crowley, a soft, begging, almost broken look on her face that made Crowley’s stomach drop.

“I need you, Crowley,” the angel whispered, and the demon shifted her leg away from the angel’s thighs to lie beside her. Crowley became desperate to ease that look, and fulfill every need that Aziraphale had, as quickly as possible. Again up on one elbow, Crowley slid her hand down the angel’s stomach, over her abdomen, through the soft, moist curls there, and placed her hand between Aziraphale’s thighs. She continued to gaze into the angel’s eyes as she slipped a finger into the angel’s wet entrance. Her thumb pressed against the angel’s clit and she dove her finger deep, watching Aziraphale’s face closely. 

The angel’s eyes rolled back, deep in pleasure, but her hips still twitched with need. Crowley gathered her close, then slid her wet finger out and began rubbing it back and forth across Aziraphale’s clit, quick and firm. Back and forth, fast and hard, until she saw the angel’s skin turn a deep shade of red and felt her heart beat increasing fast. Aziraphale was outright yelling now, calling out Crowley’s name again and again as her climax built to its peak. Her hips rose up as every muscle clenched in search of her orgasm. Finally, she let out a ragged moan and sobbed as the orgasm broke. Crowley’s fingers did not stop moving; she kept rubbing as the angel’s climax pulsed through her. She watched as Aziraphale’s eyelids fluttered and her entire body jerked with each wave of intensity that passed through her. Crowley held her as the smaller muscle spasms worked their way through the angel’s limbs, until finally her hips lowered themselves back down to rest on the grass.

Crowley’s hand slowed, then, but her fingers continued to gently circle Aziraphale’s clit and press occasionally against her tightened labia. She whispered soothingly into the angel’s ear as she came down from the climax, still feeling dazed herself at the speed and the strength of it. Aziraphale’s face was radiating pleasure and passion. Her breath had slowed, and she was starting to whimper at the overstimulation that Crowley’s fingers were causing. The demon stilled her hand, lifting it just a bit to run her fingers through the damp curled hair there.

“Oh, Crowley,” whispered Aziraphale. “That was … that was … “

Crowley stared down at the angel’s face, suddenly overcome with a passion of her own. She kissed Aziraphale, deep and hard, feeling an overwhelming pride at the angel’s lust. Crowley was proud because she’d caused it. Aziraphale giggled softly as Crowley broke off the kiss. “My, what a temptress you are,” she said, running her fingers through the demon’s long red tresses.

“Let me tempt you again, Angel,” Crowley whispered, hot and already moving her hand back down to Aziraphale’s slickness.

“Not before you, my love,” whispered the angel, as she gently pushed Crowley onto her back.


	4. Chapter 4

Aziraphale loved feeling good, and was rarely patient about it. She’d learned this about herself fairly quickly once she’d landed on Earth, and had always felt somewhat guilty about this tendency. But these times with Crowley had tempered Aziraphale’s guilt; she’d learned that the demon simply seemed made to make her feel good. The angel had tried, a few times, to initiate their lovemaking so that Crowley would be the first to climax. But Aziraphale had never been successful. In fact, she’d noticed a distinct sense of frustration coming from the demon during those attempts.

She’d in time accepted that Crowley was designed to give pleasure, and Aziraphale was designed to take it. At least until the angel was panting and flushed and satisfied. Only then would the demon allow her to reciprocate. If sometimes Aziraphale still felt a twinge of guilt, she let it slip away by thinking about how she and Crowley seemed created to make each other happy. Of course, that thought sometimes caused an entirely different set of worrisome feelings, but so far God had been content to leave them be.

And so, sated from her orgasm, Aziraphale was determined to give Crowley the pleasure she deserved for taking care of her so well. Aziraphale had found that although she herself loved to be stroked and teased with soft touches, Crowley responded best to a firmer treatment. This meant that Aziraphale used her not insignificant powers of persuasion to push the demon onto her back and straddle her.

Aziraphale sat on Crowley’s hips, resting her hands on the demon’s sides, and squeezed. Her thighs pressed into the demon’s abdomen, and Aziraphale’s hands clutched against her ribs. She’d worried at first at just how prominent Crowley’s ribs tended to be, but in time had come to accept it. Crowley was lean where Aziraphale was not; Crowley gave while Aziraphale received; and Crowley liked things hard while Aziraphale preferred them soft. Which was why her hands slid up the demon’s ribcage now to grasp Crowley’s breasts and squeeze them quite firmly.

“A...Angel,” whispered Crowley. Aziraphale worried that she was too rough, but Crowley’s eyes showed pure lust. Aziraphale squeezed harder, and took the demon’s nipples between her fingers. She pinched them with the same unrelenting pressure. “Ahhh…” Crowley’s groan sounded louder than usual; her eyes closed and her hips bucked up.

“Was that too much?” Aziraphale was worried.

“No, Angel, it was perfect,” replied Crowley, panting now.

Aziraphale smiled down and continued her firm squeezing of Crowley’s hips and nipples. There were times when her thighs would be sore after this treatment, but she’d never complain to the demon because it was all worth it to hear Crowley call out Aziraphale’s name in her low lustful tones.

Aziraphale had learned quite by accident that the demon sometimes liked to feel the sharpness of fingernails on her skin. And so, she decided to very slowly scratch her way over Crowley’s breasts. She drew back at the redness she’d caused, but the mark soon faded, and the demon appeared to absolutely love it. “Yes, Aziraphale, yes, that’s good…” Crowley was urging her on with her words and eyes. Aziraphale continued raking her nails around and around Crowley’s breasts, over the nipples, until the demon’s hips were twitching repeatedly. With a final pinch of Crowley’s nipples, Aziraphale slid down from her perch to rest in between the demon’s legs.

She let her nails continue to scrape their way down Crowley’s ribs, over her lean stomach, and across her hip bones. Aziraphale shifted herself so that she could lay her body down on her stomach, flat in between the demon’s legs, and rest her nose against the soft red hair that nestled between Crowley’s thighs. Aziraphale inhaled deeply, and felt a new surge of moistness between her own legs. Crowley smelled incredibly good, and like something Aziraphale wanted to taste as soon as possible.

She let her hands rest on Crowley’s thighs, squeezing them firmly, and commenced lapping at the demon’s labia. As much as she might want to, Aziraphale was just not patient enough to draw this pleasure out; especially not when presented with the delicious scent of the demon’s sex. It seemed to be designed to tempt Aziraphale’s tongue to dip into it and enjoy. And so she obeyed her impulses, and she generally did, and used her tongue to take long, slow tastes.

She'd almost forgotten to listen for Crowley, so intent was she on enjoying this pleasure, but eventually Aziraphale felt the long fingers of the demon burying themselves in her hair, and heard the husky entreaties coming from Crowley’s lips that encouraged her to continue. Aziraphale’s tongue was tiny but quick; she flicked it up and down Crowley’s labia, then across the demon’s clit, finally settling there and tracing it in circles. She pulled hard on Crowley’s hips, allowing her face to be buried in the demon’s sex, and worked her tongue hard and fast until she felt a familiar trembling in the demon’s thighs. 

Aziraphale knew that Crowley was close, and when she judged it just the right moment, she nibbled on the demon’s clit for a moment before taking it in between her lips and sucking hard. This drove the demon over the edge, and Aziraphale felt no small amount of pride when she heard her name being cried over and over again, even while the demon’s thighs were pressed against her ears.

Finally Crowley’s hips collapsed, spent from the waves of her orgasm, but she didn’t draw back from Aziraphale’s continued lapping of her clit and labia. She seemed to relish in the oversensitivity, where Aziraphale drew away from it. So, the angel continued to treat the demon to all manner of licks and nibbles and sucks until Crowley lifted herself to pull Aziraphale up and on top of her.

Aziraphale settled on top of her demon happily, and sighed in contentment when Crowley leaned in to kiss her mouth, covered in the demon’s own juices. “Aziraphale,” Crowley breathed, when their lips finally parted. “At this rate I’ll be too tired to satisfy you properly,” she teased.

“I don’t believe that for one moment, Crowley,” Aziraphale whispered back. “I have no doubt that you will be more than able to bring me pleasure another three or four times, at least.”

Crowley simply stared. “Three or four, Angel? Are you sure?” Crowley had never known Aziraphale to peak that often in one outing.

“Well, let’s start with one, and see how it goes, Crowley.” Aziraphale smiled, sure that her lustful demon would be urging her on at the slightest hint that she wasn’t completely satisfied. And so the pair of them spent their soft summer evening together, two halves of a whole; one giving, the other receiving, until they were both spent and tired, having thoroughly explored the exquisite sensations that counterbalance the inadequacies of a human form.

Perhaps, thought Aziraphale as they walked back home together later, God knew was she was about after all.


End file.
